Friday, 28 March 2014

Welcome one and all to the Cephalopod Coffeehouse, a cozy gathering of
book lovers, meeting to discuss their thoughts regarding the tomes they
enjoyed most over the previous month. Pull up a chair, order your
cappuccino and join in the fun. If you wish to add your own review to
the conversation, please sign on to the link list at the end of my post.
Also, next month will be the twelfth for the Coffeehouse, a full year of
book loving under our belts. It's a good time for reflection. I'm
quite happy about the way things have gone but I welcome thoughts on how
I might improve upon the concept. So please give forth in the comments
section below. Growth and evolution are good things.

This is the book I would recommend this month - the story has received a lot of publicity as the film has recently been released, I haven't seen the film yet but will do in the near future.

12 Years A Slave

Solomon Northup

5*

Approx.

154 pages

A True Story

Solomon Northup was born a freeman but is kidnapped into
slavery and spends 12 years trying to escape and regain his freedom.This is a true story detailing those 12 years
from 1841 – 1853.

It is a harrowing memoir of slavery in Louisiana and
Solomon’s quest to regain his right to freedom which should never have been
taken away from him.

The style of writing is of the era but it is very readable
and I was pleasantly surprised at how well it is written.

In this day and age we are appalled by the behaviour of
people at that time and although it took a long time for slavery to be
abolished we still need to work on lots of things regarding human rights in
this day and age.

Coincidentally, if you believe in coincidences or eerie and
weird if you don't, as I started to read
the book on my Kindle the book was also serialised each morning in 15 minutes
slots as the book of the week on Radio 4 (http://bbc.in/1mydcKc)
which made the book even more poignant.

This is the blurb
from the BBC that accompanied it:

Solomon Northup, the son of an emancipated slave, was a
free man who lived with his wife and children in New York, working as a
carpenter and violinist. In 1841, two circus promoters offered Northup a
high-paying job and he travelled south with them to Washington D.C. Soon after
arriving in the capital, he was drugged, beaten and sold into slavery.
Threatened with murder should he ever reveal what had happened, he spent the
next twelve years of his life in captivity in Louisiana.After his rescue, Northup was reunited with his family
and went on to publish this eloquent and important memoir. It was an immediate
bestseller.

It was brilliantly narrated by Rhashan Stone an American
born English actor who is currently playing a London fire-fighter in a Sky 1
series called The Smoke.

Wednesday, 26 March 2014

Write…Edit…Publish, is the home of
the monthly bloghop of the same name. You are welcome to submit any of the
following – flash fiction, poetry, non-fiction or playscripts to a word count
of 1,000 words – artwork and photographs accompanied by your written
inspiration in creating your work/s.

MARCH WEP
CHALLENGE

THROUGH
THE EYES OF A CHILD

What comes to mind for the March WEP challenge - Through the eyes of
a child? Rewriting a passage from a child's POV? A montage of images
through the eyes of a child? A poignant or exhilarating poem? A non-fiction
piece told from a child's POV? The possibilities are limitless!

Here are my thoughts on our theme this month THROUGH THE EYES OF A CHILD.

WOODEN BARS

Her eyes shot open and slowly things began to
come in to focus.She was aware of
moving shapes above her head slowly twirling and glinting as sunlight started
to stream in through a net curtained window.

She moved her arms and flexed her fingers in
front of her face and gave a little murmur as she tried kicking her trapped legs
out from underneath bindings that wrapped around her.

Her head turned and she glimpsed the cream
coloured bars.She reached out her hand
to grab on to the wooden pole, grunting as she pulled her weight across the
softness she was lying on, using her left hand to steady herself.

Gradually she managed to pull herself first in to
a crouching position and then, using her growing strength, she reached further
forwards up into a standing position.

She started to pull against the bars that kept
her enclosed and opening her mouth started calling out.

‘Mmmm, mmmm.’

The door opened, in the threshold a huge shadowy
figure appeared that advanced quickly towards her, arms outstretched.

‘It’s about time you learnt to say Daddy,’ the
loving voice said picking her up and cuddling her into his strong body.

ON DADDY’S KNEE

He
is perched safe and secure on his daddy’s knees

As
the flames flickered before his baby blue eyes

The
glowing effect mesmerising his young mind

Colours
wavering, patterns dancing, shapes undefined

Tongues
of flames the same colour as his red hair

With
its copper tints, shining golden hues and sunshine flair

The
crackles and pops and hisses as the heat ignites

Nuggets
of coals, the smell of the firewood, sparkling firelight

Father
and son’s love sealed at this moment in time

Generation
to generation in times to come

A
treasured relic of their shared history

A
homespun fire to make the loveliest memory

INNOCENCE

Flowers
as tall as me

Enticing
smells, I’ll break free

I’ll
just have to climb this big step

One,
two, up and up

‘Kathryn,’
my name is called out

I
turn and look, an innocent shout

I
smile sweetly at my mum

As I
land on my bum.

An innocent look back, a crinkle of the eyes, a mischievous
glance as she turns in reply to the call of her mother.The flowers were beckoning her, the pretty
colours and the tantalising smells, she didn't know the seasons and she didn't
wear many clothes but she kept the hat on her head.

About Me

I’m a woman of a certain age with grown up children who have children of their own.
I was lucky enough to find love a second time and have been happily married to my wonderful Dave for 11years now.
Having had some health issues I appreciate my family more and more each day.